After nightfall, the moon climbed like a silver koi across a black ocean of sky. The darkness turned secretive; its lavish glow washed the earth, slipped into hearts, like crossing into another world.

Inside a quiet house, a girl stood at the window like a white camellia in shadow, gazing at the night and letting a soft smile bloom.

“Has it begun... I wonder how a war among the Clan Head families will twist and spiral. It’s almost thrilling.”

Her smile settled back to its old charm, a fox-bright curve full of confidence.

“If the Single Leaf Clan collapses, the Asakura Family won’t stay untouched. May the Artifact Spirit shift the tide, or even the Magic Institution will bleed.”

Asagi Renka smiled, as if distance turned into glass and she could bottle the scene.

While secrets stirred like wind under leaves, a Witch finished her quiet ritual and headed for her own stronghold.

Pale arms flashed like moonlit porcelain. A black fingerless glove slid over a delicate hand, then the other with a tug that felt like drawing a bowstring.

She flung on her cloak; her slight frame swelled like a sail catching night wind. Finally, the Goggles dropped into place, a dark visor veiling half her face like a crescent.

Yun Shi glanced at her small hands, sheathed in black like ravens’ wings. Soon, those fingers would be wet with more blood.

A sigh left her like mist; her cloak flicked like water, and she walked out with a choreographed nonchalance.

She reached the rooftop, tasted the cool night like river salt, and fixed her gaze on the far skyline.

With a click, the Goggles’ zoom and night-vision woke like a cat’s eyes. The shadow she sought rippled into focus.

In a small family home, Mizuki wore a Witch’s white robe and slipped out like snowfall, startling no one.

She’d told her family she’d be away for a week or so. Trust held like warm tea, though her mother and sister had frowned.

They didn’t know she was stepping into a battlefield where breath could vanish like dew. One misstep, and that would be it.

She didn’t want worry to spread like smoke. So she chose the night, no farewells. If she faced them, her heart might crack and turn back.

“You’re here, Mizuki~”

Sham stood in front of her like a lamp already lit, as if she’d known this meet by the door was fated.

“Yo, Sham~” Elana flared into a projection, taking the shape of a fresh-faced girl whose sweet smile hid a lilt like a child’s bell.

“Elana, that form’s pretty cute.” Mizuki laughed, first time seeing Elana wear a person’s outline, even if it was only painted light.

“Heh, now you see my greatness~”

Elana’s projected self tilted her nose, pride peeking through like a kitten’s swagger.

“Alright, let’s move.”

After a look, Sham reminded her with a spring-warm smile. Time had come.

“Mm.”

Mizuki nodded, her answer quiet as falling petals.

They kicked off with jaw-dropping speed, feet drumming the roofs like rain. From one peak to the next, over the city’s stone waves they flew.

Sham’s training had taught Mizuki to wield her Mystic Power like a blade in silk, so the motion felt clean. But war still trembled in her chest.

She had fought once. The enemy was a mountain, and she was a reed. If help hadn’t arrived like thunder, her story would’ve ended in a cold margin.

Watching them race, Yun Shi dialed the Goggles back to normal hues, trading the iron luster for daylight tones. To others, her lenses stayed fox-green.

A small kick, a glint of boot on gravel, and she climbed in a dark sweep. Cloak billowing, she perched on high like a crow.

This is a Witch—running the night like water across tile, weapon ready to pluck breath like ripe fruit. No leash, only the will.

Blood marks them like red stamps, yet they’re only one thread in the larger shadow. The deeper dark lives inside the enemies they face.

In war, not killing can be a wish that kills you first. Two nations’ soldiers don’t lay down steel because kindness calls. Steel answers steel.

The world’s dark is blunt as stone. War isn’t far; it’s the next turn of the street.

On a tall roof, Sham halted, her head turning like a wary sparrow, senses pricked at the edges.

Mizuki saw and stayed silent. She understood the shape of caution.

“Mizuki, next we head for the Witches’ stronghold.”

“Mm, I know.”

“This road might not return. Maybe we won’t see everyone again. Do you regret it?”

The question struck like a cold bell. Words stopped in her throat.

It was truth. This path was nine lives lost for one saved. War waited with open jaws.

She didn’t want to leave. Each friend shimmered in her heart like lanterns on a river.

The gentle lady Mizuki with a soft spine and steady grace. Mai, whose heart bent like a lily toward girls. Yan Er, sunny and foolish at odd times.

And that one who never said things straight, a puzzle with warm edges.

They were roots she couldn’t cut.

But the die was cast. No more hiding. Only forward.

“To be honest, I regret it.”

“...”

“But I know there’s no turning the wheel. So, Sham, please live with me. Everyone’s waiting for us to come back.”

“Eh?”

“Heh, it might sound off-beat, but I want you to live too. I can’t keep only leaning on you. I need to learn to shield others.”

“To shield you, Sham. To shield my friends. That’s what I want.”

“...Heehee, you’re too adorable. I might fall for you~”

Sham felt the warmth rise like steam. Being named as someone to protect made her heart lift. The girl was growing.

“Then, when we get back, we’ll be with everyone properly.”

“Of course. Mizuki’s waiting for me!”

“Mm, and I’m itching to see Mai and Yun Shi and the rest!”

Caught by the moment, they mimicked hot-blooded heroes. Two small fists touched like starlight, sealing a vow to survive.

They opened the sigil underfoot. Mystic Power poured in like purple wine, and circuits lit, flashing with violet arcs.

Mizuki and Sham stood as the pull took them. At the edge, a tug, and their bodies rose like paper lanterns, then vanished in midair.

After they were gone, the fading array caught a black-cloaked girl like a shadow-lily. She, too, sank into the light and was sent elsewhere.

The arrival site felt wrong, like a shrine with its lamps blown out.

A simple stronghold, not the gleam of TV bases. More like a gang’s meeting ground from a grimy paperback, a hollow where light hesitates.

But the people weren’t thick-necked mercenaries. They were girls dressed like anime had leapt off the page, color and edge playing on sleeves.

Not all faces wore beauty, but every gaze held steel. The summoning had dragged every Witch stationed in Japan from their knots.

Many looked Japanese, like rain-streaked willow in school courtyards. A few faces were foreign; likely the Magic Institution’s other hands.

“So many... Are they all Witches?”

Seeing the plain buildings and a sea of girls swaying like reeds, Mizuki felt her breath hitch.

“These are the Witches and agents for this fight,” Sham said with a smile, voice light as wind. “I don’t know their strength, but numbers can drown the Divine Ling Family.”

“Mizuki, this is your chance to learn. Look closely at the world’s dark.”

Elana’s tone shed its play like a bird moulting. She had become a necklace against Mizuki’s throat, a cool line of light.

“Mizuki, your power and mine drift near the top tier. We’ll likely be placed in the best unit,” Sham said, eyes bright as dawn.

“Really?”

“Of course. Know yourself. You’re a trump card in the deck~”

Since the pact with Mizuki, Sham’s store of Mystic Power had deepened like a well after rain. Her ease showed.

Mizuki let the thought float away and kept scanning like a cat among leaves.

In one corner, she spotted a woman leaning against a wall like a blade. A face too beautiful to waste, hair cut short as a boy’s, mouth clicking with scorn.

Beside her stood a woman with a soft smile, whispering in her ear like water smoothing stone.

To the left, a girl yawned with no interest, isolated like a lone pier. She looked too young, maybe a middle-schooler, twin purple tails tied behind.

Cute like a candy charm, and yet—why bring a child to war? The question pricked like a thorn.

Mizuki felt a tug in fate’s thread, as if she’d cross paths with these three again.

Noise churned like a market since the start, a constant river, and it rubbed Mizuki wrong. She preferred quiet lanes and tea steam.

But she didn’t speak. Too many voices to hush for one reed. And near the battlefield, these might be last words shared between friends.

Thinking of that, her brow smoothed like silk.

Whoosh—the uproar cut off, clean as a blade. Every mouth closed, the hush falling like snow.

Mizuki blinked at the sudden silence. Before she asked, a footstep echoed like drops in a temple hall.

The tread wasn’t loud, but it rang crisp. Eyes swung to the source like sunflowers following light.

A black-cloaked girl walked in, Goggles hiding her face like a mask. No expression, no features, only a quiet storm in motion.

She didn’t pause under all those stares. She moved like a river, untroubled, finding her own path through stone.

“Night Phantom...”

Mizuki’s joy rose like a kite. She’d wanted to meet her again for so long. She didn’t notice how the air around them turned strange.

“...Night Phantom!!”

Someone’s shout ripped from the crowd, raw with hate. Every hostile gaze pinned the black cloak like arrows.

Mizuki didn’t grasp it yet. A girl appeared from nowhere, a combat knife flashing like a fang, face carved by old fury.

The blade drove toward the unguarded Night Phantom, a straight stab, a strike hungry as a wolf.